


Devil Inside

by energist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon!Dean, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:44:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/energist/pseuds/energist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's gone to hell and Sam goes on hunting with Ruby's help until he gets a call from Bobby about a demon-hunting demon who looks just like his dead brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is turning out to be a pretty long fic... I'm already at a little over 14,000 words. Hopefully posting it in pieces will motivate me to finish it. (I'm so worried that it's getting too drawn out...) But I hope you enjoy it! Also, I'm sorry about the chapters being all different lengths :(

            Sam woke with a start. He’d had the dream again; it always played out the exact same way. The anniversary of his death came and so did the Crossroads Demon. She’d be there, in the middle of the road; Dean slamming on the brakes to avoid hitting her. They’d both get out of the car, Sam pointing the Colt at her in a weak attempt at a threat.

            “There’s no point in threatening me with that. You already know killing me won’t save him.”

            Sam knew it was true and would lower the gun in defeat.               

            She’d smile and look over at Dean. “It’s time,” she’d say in a singsong tone as her eyes filled with red and the winds picked up. In the distance, the sound of dogs howling could be heard, getting closer with each passing second. Sam would look to Dean, his face contorted with fear and worry, and Dean would look back, trying to put on a brave face for Sam’s sake.

            “Dean…”

            “It’ll be okay Sammy…” his voice trailed off as the howls seemed to surround them coming from just out of view. The hellish chorus grew louder until it was like thunder, and then he’d wake up.

            He wasn’t sure what to do about it. It could have been another prophetic dream, but he couldn’t deny that the fear he felt at the prospect of losing his brother could be influencing his dreams as well.

            He glanced over at the plastic clock on the table of this week’s motel; 3:31 AM. He let out a sigh and lay back down, hoping he could at least make it to morning without another nightmare.

 

-

 

            The Hellhound’s claws sank into Dean’s flesh, tearing his clothes to shreds; though with his blood covering everything, it was hard to tell where torn cloth ended and torn flesh began. Lilith looked down at him with a smile as he lay there screaming and writhing in pain before looking over to Sam. The look of pain on his face rivaled Dean’s contorted expression. Dean may have been subject to physical pain the likes of which he’d never experienced before, but Sam was dealing with the trauma of not only having to live without his brother, but with seeing him ripped apart right in front of him.

            Dean’s guttural screams shook Sam to his core. He wanted to do something, anything, but with Lilith keeping him on the wall, all he could do was watch his brother bleed out until the screaming stopped.

            “Dean!!!” The Hellhounds howled in unison, the sound fading away like the wind.

Lilith smiled, having finally claimed the soul of a Winchester. She reached a hand out towards Sam, prepared to kill him next. Her hand glowed, the light so intense that the individual bone so visible it was as if she’d filleted herself. The room filled with a blinding white light that quickly faded and had no effect. Sam looked bewildered, having expected himself to be blown away. Lilith looked just as shocked.

            Sam knew he only had this one chance and one chance only to strike. He grabbed Ruby’s knife and lunged at Lilith, but before he could sink the knife into her neck the black smoke that was Lilith erupted from her vessel’s mouth with a roar and escaped through a vent in the ceiling.

            Sam rushed over to Dean, falling to his knees and cradling his lifeless body in his arms. “Dean…” He could barely say his brother’s name through the lump in the back of his throat. “Dean, wake up…”

            No response.

            “Dean… c’mon, man….” He swallowed hard, tears flowing. “W-wake up….”

            But his life and soul had been ripped from his body; there was no waking up for Dean.

 

-

 

            Bobby had helped Sam bring his brother’s corpse back to his place the same way he’d done when Sam had died. As soon as Lilith had gone, all the other demon’s on the street left too, making it easy for them to leave.

            Dean was laid out on the same grubby mattress as Sam had been; the blood stain was still there. He’d been cleaned up, his wounds bandaged, his torn clothes taken off and replaced with fresh ones, his leather jacket and necklace wiped off and put back on. He may have been dead, but Sam wasn’t going to let him look that way. He knew Dean would do the same for him. Hell, he’d done that and more just a year ago.

            “Sam… isn’t it about time?” Bobby asked from the doorway.

            Sam just sat motionless in a chair by the mattress, staring at Dean’s body.

            It was the same as it’d been a year before. Same situation, different brother… same conversation.

            “Isn’t it about time we buried him?”

            “No…” Sam mumbled.

            “Sam, maybe we could…”

            “We could what?! Burn him like we did Dad?! No…”

            “Why don’t you come with me…”

            “No.” Sam stood up and walked past Bobby into the other room.

            “Sam, please. We’ve still got demons out there that want you dead too.”

            “Then let them kill me!”

            “You don’t mean that.”

            “Don’t I?! Look what hunting’s gotten me! Dad’s dead, I died once, and now Dean’s dead!” He paused before slumping down in one of the chairs by the kitchen table. “I’m sorry… just, please, go.”

            Bobby sighed. Dean and Sam really were more alike than either of them cared to admit. He knew there was no getting through to him right now. He headed for the door.

            “You know where I’ll be.” He’d hoped giving Sam some time alone with his grief might bring him back to his senses. “Just promise me one thing… that you won’t go offering yourself up to some Crossroads Demon like Dean did.”

            Sam stared at the floor. The thought had crossed his mind already, but he knew no demon would give Dean back, not after they’d worked so hard to get a hold of him in the first place. “I promise.”

            Bobby left quietly, shaking his head as he closed the door behind him.

            Sam looked over at Dean through the doorway. He looked peaceful, as if he was sleeping off a pie-binge. Sam smiled a little at the thought of the two of them at a diner, Dean gorging himself on any and every kind of pie they had.

            The smile didn’t last long however, and Sam went back to his post in the chair by the mattress. He knew Dean was dead, but burying him, burning him, anything that would normally be done with a corpse just felt wrong. There was such a finality to it; it’d mean that Dean really was dead and gone and wouldn’t be coming back.

            “Dean…” Just mentioning his brother’s name was enough to make the tears start to well up. “I… I know you wanted me to be strong once you left…”He swallowed hard. “It’s just hard without you around you know…” The tears started flowing down his cheeks, his voice cracking slightly, “The times I was strongest… were because you were there… You’d always have my back, and I knew… I knew that if I needed you, you’d be there… even if we didn’t always see eye to eye…”

            He had to stop talking. Talking to Dean got to him the most. Knowing that his brother couldn’t hear him where he was, that he couldn’t reply... it killed him.

            On top of that, he felt guilty. He told himself that if he hadn’t gotten himself killed then Dean wouldn’t have made the deal, that if he’d worked harder to find a way to get Dean out of the deal he’d still be here, that something could have been done and that it was his fault his brother was gone.

            He choked back his tears, remembering that Dean would have been teasing him by now, telling him to not be such a wuss.

            Wiping the tears away with the back of his hand, he got off the chair and laid on the mattress next to Dean like he used to do when they were kids. Dean would always be mad at first, having been woken up by a frightened Sam, but he’d quickly give in and let him crawl under the covers where it was safe. When Dean first told Sam that monsters were real and their dad hunted them, he must have slept in Dean’s bed with him every night for a week. He’d long grown out of the habit of course, but Dean couldn’t have protested to it now, not when it was for the last time and Sam needed his brother now more than ever.


	2. Chapter 2

Bobby got back shortly after sunrise. He didn’t see Sam anywhere as he walked through the door and set his bag on the kitchen table. He let out an exasperated sigh. “ _I swear if that boy is still sitting on that chair…_ ” he thought. Walking into the other room, expecting to see Sam in the chair, he found him, still lying curled up next to Dean, asleep. The scene would have been sweet to anyone who didn’t know one of the boys was dead.

            He had to get Sam to realize that they couldn’t just keep Dean there forever, and soon, but he figured he could at least let him have a little more peaceful time with his brother. They hadn’t exactly had much of that up until now and they surely wouldn’t be getting any in the future.

            He slowly backed out of the room, retreating to his den to read up on some violent creatures in Michigan called melonheads while he waited for Sam to wake up.

            It was about an hour later that he heard the creak of the old floorboards and got up to meet Sam in the kitchen. Sam let out a long yawn as he rubbed his eyes. “Hey Bobby…”

            Bobby pulled out a chair at the table and sat down, motioning to the one across from him. “Sam, we need to talk.”

            “I know, I know, it’s just-“

            “Sam,” he said, his voice taking a more stern tone, “sit down. We need to talk.”

            Sam gave in and sat down across from him.

            “Now look, I get that you don’t wanna see Dean on some funeral pyre or in a wood box, but we can’t just keep him here forever.”

            “Bobby, I’m gonna find a way to bring him back.”

            “You can’t bring him back Sam,” his tone softening and becoming sympathetic. “There’s no way to bring someone back from the dead outside of making a deal and you know the demons won’t give him up.”

            “There’s got to be a way, we just haven’t found it yet…”

            “Sam, I’ve looked. Believe me, I’ve looked. I’ve searched through every book I own, asked every psychic I know; there’s no way. Last night I drove across state to see the most powerful medium I know. Even the spirits told her there wasn’t a way.” He sighed then waited a moment before continuing. “Look. We keep him here much longer and nature’s gonna start taking over. The dead don’t just stay pristine looking. Would you rather remember him looking the way he does know and be able to remember him when he was alive, or would you rather wait until he starts to rot? You’ll never get that image out of your head; you’ll never remember him as he was, you’ll always just see his decomposing corpse…”

            Sam sat silent, Bobby’s words sinking in.

            “If you wanna go on believing that you can bring him back, I can’t stop you. But then at least bury him. We don’t gotta destroy his body, but we can’t hang onto it. He deserves a proper burial at least. Letting him sit here and rot on a dirty, bloody mattress isn’t dignified. He’s done too much for you… for everyone for that.”

            Sam looked up Bobby, eyes wet. “I- I know. It’s just so hard…”

            “I know that, death was never meant to be easy.”

            Sam wiped his eyes. “You’re right though. We’ve got to bury him. We owe him that.”

            “I know of a place we can do it. There’s a nice little forest just outside of Pontiac, Illinois; it’s secluded enough that no one goes there, so he’ll be undisturbed and you can still go visit him.”

            Sam nodded, trying not to tear up yet again.

            “I’ll make the arrangements; you’ve been through enough for the time being.” He got up, giving Sam a pat on the shoulder on the way outside. There weren’t exactly any arrangements to make, but he didn’t want to be so blunt as to tell Sam that he had to make a pine box coffin for Dean so they could put him in the ground.

            Sam stayed in the kitchen, burying his face in his hands, elbows resting on the table. He knew it’d just be him and Bobby at the ‘funeral’, but he still was going to give a eulogy.

            The rest of the day went by as was to be expected; Bobby came inside for lunch and told Sam that he should eat something though he refused, told him how the burial would go though he wasn’t sure Sam was paying him any attention, he went back outside to work, and Sam sat around in a semi-catatonic state until nightfall.

            Bobby came back inside, wiping the dirt from his hands. “Everything’s set, Sam. We can bring him out to the van.” He’d loaded the simple pine box coffin into the back of one of the few working vans sitting in his car yard, the windowless behemoth acting as a makeshift hearse.

            Sam got up from the table, having spent less time coming up with a eulogy and more time mentally preparing himself to move his brother without having a breakdown. He nodded at Bobby and led him to the other room.

            Sam sat Dean up and wrapped his arms around his older brother’s torso, while Bobby picked up a leg with each arm. They lifted at the same time and carefully carried Dean out of the house and put him into the coffin waiting in the van which Bobby had parked near the door.

            Bobby started pulling the lid on. “Listen; Why don’t you drive the van, I’ll lead in the Impala. Lord knows Dean would have both our asses if we didn’t have it there when we bury him.” Plus he figured that Sam would want to be the one to drive Dean and that he’d want to do it alone, but he wasn’t going to tell him that.

            “No…” he paused. “I uh, he told me that he was leaving me the car… and that I had to protect it. He never let me drive it, so if I let someone else he’d probably find a way to drag himself out of hell and kick my ass.” He cracked a slight smile; if anyone could drag themselves out it would be Dean, and he would be the one to go to all that trouble just to kick Sam’s ass over the car.

            Bobby cracked a smile too. “’Suppose you’re right. I’ll take the van, you follow in the car then.” He tossed the keys to Sam. He’d been holding them, a bit of an insurance policy to prevent Sam from racing off to make a deal or who knows what else while in his less than stable state.

            They got on the road quickly, hoping to get to their destination by the next nightfall. They’d have to do the burial after dark. Sure the spot Bobby had chosen was deserted, but they still couldn’t risk someone driving past while they hauled a coffin from a van into the woods.

            Sam spent the first hour or so of the drive in silence before he couldn’t bear the loneliness of it. He reached over, turning the volume knob on the radio enough to turn it on. One of Dean’s rock tapes was in it, starting in the middle of a song. He couldn’t listen to it; not yet. He reached back over and hit the eject button, the tape popping out halfway with a few clicks and the radio taking over. Unsurprisingly it was playing rock too. He sighed and turned the knob until he found some talk radio station; NPR or something, he wasn’t quite sure. He tried to keep himself focused on whatever they talked about (at the moment it was organic gardening) as he drove lest his mind wander back to his brother.

            Of course it didn’t do him much good. He remembered how Dean would always say, “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole!” He sighed, shaking his head as if trying to loosen the memory and make it fall away. He focused harder on the radio hosts who had now moved on to talking about molecular gastronomy.

            It went on like that the rest of the night; Sam remembering something Dean had said or done at one point or another followed by trying to focus on whatever was on the radio to stop the remembrances.

            Shortly after sunrise Bobby pulled off to the side of the road, Sam behind him. He got out of the van, walking back to the Impala. Sam rolled down the window. “What’s up Bobby?”

            “You wanna stop for breakfast? We can’t stop long enough anywhere to sleep with a coffin in the back of the van, but we at least gotta eat. Especially you; you’ve barely eaten the past few days anyway and I can’t have you swerving off the road behind me.”

            “Sure.”

            “Good. There’s a diner a few miles ahead; we’ll stop there.” He turned and went back to the van, the door groaning as he pulled it shut.

            He pulled back onto the road, leading Sam the few miles to the diner. He parked far enough away from the entrance that no one would be walking past the van, possibly seeing the cargo inside, but not so far as to seem out of place. Sam parked right next to him.

            Inside the diner they sat in a booth near the front windows. A cheerful middle-aged waitress came to take their orders shockingly fast. “What can I get you two darlings?”

            Bobby quickly looked through the menu. “I’ll take a coffee, bacon and eggs, and pancakes, thanks.”

          “Alrighty,” she said, writing down the order before looking to Sam. “And what can I get for you, handsome?”

            “Just a coffee, please; black.”

            “Actually he’ll have what I’m having,” Bobby added.

            “Okay, two coffees, two bacon and eggs, and two orders of pancakes. I’ll have that right out!” She walked back behind the counter, putting in the order before attending to the other customers.

            Sam glared at Bobby. “I can order my own breakfast.”

            “Not when it’s just coffee, you can’t.” He sighed. “You’ve barely eaten in days and we both need to keep our energy up. We’ve gotta drive straight through the rest of the day to make it to Indiana tonight so we gotta keep our energy up. This is the only time we’re stopping for food so you need to eat.”

            Sam started to open his mouth to say something but Bobby quickly cut him off.

            “Don’t you go giving me more attitude. You can go back to sulking and being self-destructive after this job is done, but until then you’re gonna listen to me.” Bobby wasn’t a mean man, but he could certainly put forth an authoritative air when the situation called for it.

            Sam didn’t even bother to try and reply. It was pointless to try and argue with Bobby now.

            It wasn’t long before the waitress brought their food and a pot of coffee and set it down in front of them. She poured each of their cups and set the pot back down. “Anything else I can get for you?”

            “Nope, we’re set for now, thanks,” Bobby said with a smile. He was trying to make up for the dark cloud Sam was casting over the booth.

            “Alright, well just holler if you need something.” She smiled and left them to their food.

            Sam took a sip of his coffee and started eating begrudgingly. Bobby could tell he wasn’t happy about it, but at least he was eating now. Sam set down his fork when he’d finished half the food in front of him before taking a big gulp of coffee. He wasn’t going to eat anymore.

            “Sam, finish eating that food.”

            Sam glared at him.

            “Boy, I told you already that you’re gonna need your energy. I don’t want you fainting behind the wheel and ending up like your brother. If you aren’t gonna eat because I tell you to, at least do it because Dean would tell you to.”

            Sam picked the fork back up and started eating again. The two of them finished their meal in silence.

            The waitress brought over their check, leaving it on the table. “Thanks for stopping by fellas!”

            She left and Bobby picked up the check to read how much it was. He pulled out his wallet and put the money for the check on the table along with a hefty tip. “C’mon.” He got up, Sam behind him, and walked back out to the van.

            They each got in their respective vehicles, Bobby starting his with a sigh. He’d at least gotten Sam to eat something, but he still wanted to get him a little less depressed. He’d seen Sam and Dean as his own kids in a way; he’d hurt the same way a dad would when Dean died, and it hurt him to see Sam so morose. But there wasn’t much he could do. He backed out of the parking space and pulled back onto the highway, Sam following.

            The rest of the drive was uneventful. Sam had kept up his earlier tactics of focusing on talk radio to keep his mind off Dean, and it was still failing. But it was better than nothing and the few minute long breaks he’d get were the most peace he’d felt in days.

            Bobby pulled off the road not far beyond an abandoned looking gas station a few hours after nightfall. He actually managed to drive all the way off the road and into the brush, a car width path opening up shortly after that. Sam followed, wondering just where the path led.

            It had to have been at least fifteen minutes before Bobby came to a stop on the edge of a clearing that couldn’t have been much bigger than the average home garage and shut off the van. He got out, Sam following his lead. “This is it,” he pointed to the clearing. “Private and peaceful.”

            Sam inspected the clearing from where he stood. “It’s..” He wanted to say that it wasn’t good enough, hat his brother deserved better; a real grave in a real cemetery with a real funeral, not a hole in the woods. But it was the best that he’d get. The demons had wanted his soul so bad, who’s to say they wouldn’t try to desecrate his body as a last attempt at spitting in both brothers’ faces. They had to keep it somewhere hidden.

            “We’ve got to get to work. We’ve only got till sun up to get this done and get back on the road without anyone seeing us.” Bobby pulled a shovel out of the back of the van and tossed it into the clearing followed by a couple of boards and a leather bag which he handed to Sam. “I, uh, I figured I could dig and you could make the marker…”

            Sam set the boards on the roof of the Impala and looked in the bag to find nails, a hammer, and a knife. He just looked at Bobby and nodded in understanding.

            Bobby picked up the shovel and headed to the center of the clearing, digging by the moonlight. Sam grabbed the board and held one end in his hand, the other resting on the ground, and stomped on it, breaking it into two, roughly equal pieces. It only took a minute or two for him to nail the two pieces together into a rough looking cross. He sat on the ground with the cross in his lap, knife in hand.

            He started carving into the wood. He started with the letter ‘D’. He didn’t dare write out Dean’s full name, just in case. He couldn’t carve much into it that could identify the grave’s dweller as a human just in case someone happened to come across it. It was extremely unlikely, but he was better off making it look like the marker for a pet lest it arouse suspicion. Under the ‘D’ he continued in smaller writing, ‘The best’. He wanted to continue with, ‘brother anyone could ask for’. He caught himself before carving it and ended up with ‘The best anyone could ask for’. Then ‘I love you.’

            He got up, carrying the cross into the clearing where Bobby had already made his way several feet into the ground. He held the cross up high then rammed it down into the ground at one end of the roughly rectangular hole. Bobby glanced at it and nodded in approval before continuing to dig. Sam walked back to the van, looking into the open back at Dean’s coffin.

            It was a plain pine box with thick rope handles; an unimpressive coffin for an anything but unimpressive man. He laid a hand on the top, staring at it. It still felt wrong to him. His brother, who used to be so full of vitality, was lying lifeless in a wood box. He still wasn’t sure how he was going to go on without him.

            He’d wanted to make a deal to get him back. Bobby had made him promise not to try, but what Bobby didn’t know was that Sam only promised not to because he’d already tried.

            He’d summoned a crossroads demon but it wouldn’t make a deal with him; not for Dean. He even offered to take his place in hell but it was no use. He’d even threatened to kill the thing and still no deal.

            He was still determined to find a way to get him back though. Nothing on Earth or in Hell would keep them apart.

            Bobby came up behind Sam, putting a hand on his shoulder and making him jump a little. “It’s all ready for him.”

            “Okay…” The only thing keeping Sam from hysterically trying to stop the burial from proceeding was that he was sure he’d find a way to bring him back…somehow. That’s what he told himself anyway.

            Bobby reached into the van to get a hold of one of the handles and pull the box halfway out, allowing Sam to grab the other handle easily. Bobby counted aloud, “1…2…liiiiiiiift,” and they lifted in unison.

            They carried the coffin slowly to the grave, Sam biting his tongue the whole way to stop from having an emotional outburst. Determined as he was to bring Dean back, it still wasn’t easy to bury him.

            The two men slowly kneeled down on each side of the whole, lowering the coffin into it even slower until it came to rest on the bottom and the handles went slack.

            As they stood back up, Bobby looked at Sam and Sam looked into the grave. They stood that way, silent for a moment before Bobby spoke. “You, uh…, you wanna say anything?”

            Sam looked up at him. “Say what?” he asked, his voice soft.

            “You know, a eulogy.”

            Sam nodded and looked back into the grave. “You…” He stopped and cleared his throat. “You… were the best brother anyone could ask for… it sounds so cliché, but it’s true. You’d always have my back…” He had to pause to clear his throat and regain his composure. “I know I’ve got to be brave since you’re gone….” Another pause. “and I’ll try. I’ll try so hard.” His voice cracked as he continued. “and don’t worry; I’ll take care of the car… I’ll bring you back, and it’ll be waiting for you, looking just as good as it always has.” He bent down to pick up a handful of dirt and stood back up. “I love you Dean…”

            He barely managed to choke out the last few words, trying to stop himself from crying. He tossed the dirt into the grave gingerly as a tear rolled down his cheek. He wasn’t going to be able to keep any semblance of composure for much longer. “Hey Bobby, why don’t you uh… why don’t you finish up here. I, I just need a minute.”

            Bobby nodded and picked up the shovel. He knew that Sam was about to break down, and as much as he wanted to comfort him, he knew it’d be better to leave him alone right now. Sam had always been a bit reserved with his emotions, and he wouldn’t want anyone to see him in such a state.

           Sam got into the driver’s seat of the Impala, slamming the door shut. He slid the key into the ignition slowly, feeling each click as the key pushed the pins into place, and turned it towards him, the radio lighting up.

It was still on the talk channel from the drive there. He reached over and opened the glove compartment, rifling through the loose cassette tapes stowed inside for a second before pulling one out. He pulled out the tape that was hanging out of the deck and popped in the new one. The first chords of one of Dean’s favorite rock songs started to play.

As soon as he heard them, the tears started flowing freely. He grabbed the steering wheel, clutching it so hard his knuckles were white. “Dammit Dean…” he choked out. “We were supposed to find a way to save you…” His words were punctuated with pained sobs. “You’re supposed to have made it out of the deal, you’re supposed to be here… not in some, some pine box in a hole!” He slammed a fist into the steering wheel. His arm quivered for a moment before he let it go limp, his hand sliding down the wheel into his lap.

His voice was quieter now. “We were supposed to keep hunting together. I don’t want to do it alone… I can’t do it alone.”

His head fell forward as he completely broke down. The tears dripped from his chin, leaving little wet spots on his shirt as he sobbed. He told himself he’d get Dean back, but he hadn’t the faintest idea how; and to be honest, he wasn’t even really sure he could.


	3. Chapter 3

“Look Sam, do you want to be able to exorcise him or not?!”

            “Yeah, it’s just- it’s not exactly the easiest thing to do!” he snapped back.

            “Try it again.”

            Sam looked at the man tied up in the chair. Not that he was a man anymore. His black eyes reflected back the candle light. He held up one hand towards the man, the other pulled up to his temple. He squinted his eyes as he began to concentrate.

            The man would have been long gone if it wasn’t for the florescent devil’s trap spray painted onto the floor beneath him. As Sam concentrated harder, the man coughed a few times before a cloud of black smoke started to flow out of his mouth. He coughed again before inhaling deep, the smoke pulling back in. Sam concentrated harder and the smoke started flowing out of the man again, only now, there was more. Sam grunted, blood starting to drip from his nostril as the smoke spilled out faster. Before long the smoke had emptied out of the man, sinking into the floor leaving him unconscious in the chair.

            Sam relaxed with a sigh. His companion didn’t look pleased. “You’re starting to get it, but at the rate you’re going you’ll be an old man on your death bed before you’re ready for Lilith.”

            He glared back at her. “I’m doing the best I can.”

            “Well, you need to be better.”

            “Maybe it’s your teaching that’s the problem!”

            “No, Sam, my teaching is why you’ve gotten as far as you have. If you’d do everything I told you, you’d be a lot better than you are now.”

            “I don’t need to. I’ve drunk enough of your blood Ruby.”

            She chuckled. “The more you drink, the stronger your powers get. But it’s like gasoline; tank runs dry, the powers run down. So if you don’t keep drinking it, you’ll never get strong enough.”

            “It’d just be a crutch. I have to be able to do it on my own.”

            “On your own?” she scoffed. “None of your powers were anything you did on your own. You wouldn’t even have them if it weren’t for a certain yellow eyed asshole. If you go after Lilith without getting a lot stronger you’re going to end up dead and then you’ll never get Dean back.”

            Sam sighed. She was right. He’d only gotten as strong as he was now from drinking her blood to boost his powers, and he definitely wasn’t anywhere near strong enough to take on Lilith. His powers had only gotten a little stronger from when he first discovered them up to now. Could he really wait until he was strong enough on his own? He’d kill Lilith and bring Dean back but he’d be old and grey by then. What hopes of a life with his beloved brother would he have then?

            “Fine. You’re probably right. I-“

            Ruby cut him off, “No, not probably. I _am_ right, Sam.”

            He sighed again. “Fine. You’re right. But once I kill Lilith and get Dean back, no more.”

            She smiled. “You sure about that? There’s still going to be demons running around after Lilith, and wouldn’t it be so much easier to get rid of them with some of those powers of yours? I mean, you’re so against using my knife on them because it kills the meat, so wouldn’t this be the better way?”

            “We’ve still got devil’s traps and exorcism incantations; and if I don’t stop drinking your blood and using the powers, how am I any better than them?”

            “Oh, you mean the demons? Like me? The only person that’s even given you a chance at getting him back is a demon.”

            “That’s not what I meant. I don’t include you with the others… you’re different.”

            This time, Ruby sighed. “I get it, you don’t want to lose your humanity to this. You won’t. I may be a demon, but I’m not lying to you. I’m not exactly Dean’s biggest fan, but I want you to be able to get him back.”

            He was surprised she’d say that. “Uh, thanks.”

            “Look, we’ve got to get this guy out of here yet before he comes to. Why don’t I take care of it, and you go back to the motel. We’ve got more demons to track down here tomorrow and I can’t have you passing out from fatigue.”

            “You don’t need any help?”

            Ruby cut the ropes binding the man to the chair then lifted him up and hoisted him up onto her shoulder as if he was nearly weightless. “Sam, I’m a demon, I can handle this.”

            “Okay…uh, I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he asked as he headed to the door.

            “Yeah; now go get some rest.”

            Sam nodded and left, getting into the Impala and driving off. The motel was only a few miles down the road.

            He parked right in front of the door to his room and went inside, lugging a duffel bag of hunting supplies with him. Once inside he dropped the bag and flopped down onto the bed, not even bothering to change his clothes first.

            He turned his head, looking over to the other bed in the room. It was untouched, though he wasn’t expecting it to have been used. Even though he always stayed alone in the motel rooms he’d rent, he always got one with two beds. One for him, one for Dean.

            He still did a lot of things as if Dean was around. He never put anything in the passenger seat of the car, like he was saving a seat for Dean. When he’d get food delivered to the room, he’d always order an extra burger and piece of pie for Dean. It was his way of keeping him around in spirit.

            After all, it’d been three months since Dean had been buried and Sam wasn’t ready to let go. There was no guarantee he ever would be.


	4. Chapter 4

            Sam’s cell phone rang, waking him up. He looked over at the cheap alarm clock on the nightstand as he picked up the phone to answer it. 4:17 am. He checked the caller ID. It was Bobby.

            “Hey Bobby, what’s up?” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his free hand.

            “I’ve got a case for you.”

            “But I’m still working the Charleston case.” Bobby had sent him to South Carolina to get rid of whatever was causing an unusually high amount of demons to take up a large number of human vessels.

            He and Ruby used the demons they caught as practice for Sam’s powers, though their interrogations hadn’t gotten them far.

            “I know that ya idjit. But this new case is more important.”

            “I can’t just leave a town full of demons!”

            “Ruby can keep things under control while you’re gone. She’s plenty strong enough to keep things as they are for a couple days.”

            “Bobby, what’s so important about this new case that you’d want me to leave?”

            “You might want to be sitting down when I tell you.”

            “I already am, now tell me.”

            Bobby paused for a second, “Dean.”

            Sam’s voice got softer, growing a little distant. “What do you mean… Dean?”

            “Well,” he sighed, “There’s been plenty of reports of demons showing up and possessing folks all over the country, as usual, and whoever was closest would go and hunt the sons’a’bitches down. But there’s been something strange happening during some of the hunts. There’s been talk that someone’s been killing the demons before the hunters… Someone faster than the demons. A few hunters have seen the guy, and…. He looks like Dean.”

            “He’s dead, Bobby. It’s gotta be some lone hunter or something.”

            “Not with that speed. It’s a demon.”

            “But why would a demon be hunting down other demons? And why would he… why would he look like Dean?”

            “He could be possessing his body; I don’t really know. That’s what you’ve gotta go there to find out. Maybe it’s just some random possession. Don’t you want to find out? And if it is possessing Dean’s body, don’t you wanna stop it?”

            “If it’s possessing Dean’s body, I’ll kill it.” Sam’s voice grew angry.

            “Alright. Call Ruby and tell her to stay here then get on the road. I’ll text you the address of where it was last seen.” He hung up.

            Sam instantly dialed Ruby and explained what was going on.

            “You aren’t going after something that strong on your own!”

            “Yes I am! You’ve got to stay here to stop the town from going to hell, and I’ve got to go figure out what’s going on.”

            Ruby gave in. “Fine. But don’t call me for help because I won’t be able to come to you.” Click.

Ruby stuffed the phone back into her pocket with her free hand. She’d carried the exorcised man to a park in the middle of town. She found a bench near a lamp post that seemed like a good spot for him. She let him down from her shoulder, laying him onto the bench. She looked at him for a second, pondering, before rearranging his legs so that one was hanging off the bench along with one of his arms, leaving him face down. “That’s better.” Now he’d just look like a drunk who passed out on the bench, and for all the man would know, his ordeal had just been a drunken hallucination.

            Sam made quick work of throwing his bags into the backseat of the Impala, checking out of the motel, and hitting the road. The address he got from Bobby was in New Orleans – an eleven hour drive.

            He sped the entire way, the radio blaring talk radio. He still hadn’t been able to get himself to listen to Dean’s tapes.

            He got into town mid-afternoon and drove around until he found a motel. It’s exterior was shades of purple, yellow, and green; gaudy but perfectly suited to the area. He checked in and went to his room, a two bed as usual. He threw his bags onto the table under the window and closed the blinds then lay on top of the bed, getting some z’s before nightfall when his work would begin.

            He woke up shortly after dark. He rubbed his eyes and pulled out his phone; Bobby had sent another text. It was the names of a hunter duo in the area who had seen the demon. Bobby had called ahead and they were expecting Sam.

            He pulled Ruby’s knife out of one of the bags on the table and stowed it in a pocket in the lining of his coat before leaving the room. The hunters lived just a few blocks away from the motel in a shockingly average looking suburban house. It looked like something straight off of HGTV. It was big, with pale blue siding and white shutters on every window. The grass was perfectly trimmed and flowers lined the driveway and front walk. There was even a mini-van in the driveway and a white picket fence around it all.

            Sam wasn’t sure he was in the right place. He double checked the address; it was right. He opened the trunk and dug around the fake IDs, pulling out one showing him as a locksmith. It was a good cover just in case Bobby had given him the wrong address. He shut the trunk and walked up the driveway and to the front door. He knocked three times and the door opened surprisingly fast. “Can I help you?” the woman who answered asked.

            “Hi. Yeah, Is there a Robyn Sinclair here?” If there wasn’t he’d say she’d called a locksmith and he must have written down the address wrong.

            “Yes, that’s me,” she paused. “Are you Sam?”

            He breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, Bobby sent me.”

            She smiled. “Come on in!” She motioned him inside and shut the door behind him. The inside of the house was as immaculate and well decorated as the outside. Her long blonde hair was is big loose curls. She had on a sweater that was just a shade away from that of the house with skinny jeans and heels. She looked like a younger, more modern Martha Stewart, not a hunter.

            “You’re… a hunter?” Sam asked skeptically after looking her up and down.

            “Yeah, family business. Same with Neil, my husband. I know, we don’t exactly look the part. But the way I see it, just because we’re hunters doesn’t mean we can’t still live the ol’ American Dream. I’ve just got to remember to take off the Louboutins before we go on a hunt.” She laughed. She was a lot happier than most hunters, that was for sure.

            “So, Bobby said you and Neil saw the demon that… looked like my brother?”

            “We did. Neil’s out tracking it right now actually. It turns out that it’s still in the area.”

            “Was it really killing other demons when you saw it?”

            “Yeah… it was really strange.” She motioned to the plush looking sofa in the living room. “Come on, have a seat, I’ll tell you the whole story.”

            Sam took a spot on the sofa, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his thighs. Robyn took a seat across from him on a matching armchair.

            “So, there’s been some possessions around town lately. Nothing too out of the ordinary, you know, just your run of the mill homicidal demon. Business as usual. Well, a couple of days ago we got a tip about someone who had been killing people and eating their livers before taking over their body. So we tracked him down, and it was a demon. We doused him in holy water but he ran. So we ran after him trying to corral him into one of the devil’s traps we’d placed in the area. We’d gotten him to run down a long alley that one of the traps was at the end of, but half way to it, something… someone, jumped down from one of the fire escapes and landed right on top of him.

            It looked like a person, and I’d assumed at first that it was another demon. It had to have been to jump from that height. But it didn’t turn on us. It started attacking the one we were hunting. It was one of the most savage killings I’ve ever seen. It clawed half his face off… and when it had its hands up over its face, it dug its fingers into his chest and ripped its heart out.” She face lost a little color as she recounted the sight. “It held up the still beating heart and crushed it. Then it looked back at us and gave us this… this smile and it jumped back up the fire escape and was gone.” She sighed. “We didn’t know what the hell was going on, so we started calling any other hunters we knew, telling them what this new demon… man… whatever it was looked like; seeing if any of them knew what it was. A friend of Neil’s dad said he knew someone who might know… Bobby.

            So we called him, described what we saw and he was shocked to say the least. He said that he knew a pair of brothers who hunted… and that one of them had died, and the person we saw matched him perfectly. He said he was going to call you because if anyone could get to the bottom of this, it was you.”

            Sam took a minute to gather his thoughts. “You’re sure of what the guy, thing, whatever it was looked like? I mean, you’re sure you described it accurately?”

            “Positive. There were lights in the alley so everything was clear. Then seeing what we did, it seared itself into our minds.”

            Sam wanted to doubt her, but he knew she was telling the truth. But what was he going to do if there really was a demon out there possessing Dean’s body? He’d end up having to bury him all over again. It’d be the same trauma. He’d already been through that hell once, and he wasn’t sure how well he’d fare going through it again.

            A happy little jingle started coming from Robyn’s thigh. “Hang on, that should be Neil.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, answering it. “Hey babe, did you find it?... Yeah, he’s here, I told him what happened.” She paused for a minute while he told her what was going on. “You’re sure?... But there’s too many people there… I suppose we’ll have to then… okay, we’ll be there in a few… Love you too, bye.” She hung up and shoved the phone back into her pocket as she stood up. “Neil found it, but there’s a problem.”


	5. Chapter 5

“What kind of problem?”

            “Well,” she started, heading back to the entry hall, Sam standing and following. “It’s been hanging around the bars on Bourbon Street. It’s been talking to people, asking if they’ve seen anyone with black eyes. They usually blow him off because they assume he’s just some drunkard.”

            “How is that a problem? It’s not hurting anyone, it’s trying to find other demons to kill.”

            “Because it’s drawing attention to itself; the demons know he’s been asking around. They’re upping their kills to taunt him. Not to mention there’s the little matter of how we’re gonna trap him. We can’t just draw a devil’s trap in the middle of Bourbon Street.”

            “So… what do we do?”

            “There’s an old warehouse out by the docks. We’ve used it a few times for…. Interrogations. There’s already a few traps on the floor, if we can somehow lure it away from the bars and to the warehouse, maybe we can manage to get it into one of them.”

            “We still need a way to lure the thing out of the bar and all the way there.”

            “We’ll have to find a real demon, hunt it down, and hope that he pulls the same crap he did the other day. I’ll admit, it’s not the most fool proof plan but it’s the best I’ve got.”

            “I can’t say I know of anything better.”

            “Alright then, let’s suit up.” She pulled open a door to the coat closet and reached up, pushing a button inside and above the door frame. The interior of the closet slid back, spun around, and clicked back into place, now a shockingly well stocked hunter armory.

           “Impressive…” Sam was in awe. Most hunters had their weapons on the wall with no effort to conceal them, or at best a trunk with a secret compartment. This was far beyond all of that.

            “Like I said, just because we’re hunters, it doesn’t mean we can’t live the American Dream. Besides, the weapons would clash with the drapes,” she laughed.

            There were guns for every possible situation; handguns, sawed off shotguns, hunting rifles, even a sniper rifle. Below them were compartments containing salt filled bullets for every gun, below that there were knives, and below that a few pairs of shoes. Robyn pulled off her heels and set them aside before pulling on a pair of black army boots. “These are a little better suited to hunting.”

            She took down the sniper rifle and stowed it in a large duffle along with a sawed off shotgun and plenty of bullets for each before zipping it and putting the handles over her shoulder. “How are you on bullets?”

            “I’m, uh, I’m good, thanks.”

            “Alright then, can I ride with you? Neil’s got the jeep and the minivan isn’t exactly well suited to hunting.”

            “Yeah, no problem.”

            “Okay, let’s be on our way then.” She opened the front door, letting Sam go out first then locked it and closed it behind her. They got into the Impala and Sam sped off.

            “Okay, Neil said the demon is hanging out in a bar called ‘Attacher’ on Bourbon Street. There’s bound to be other demons in the area since the drunken people leaving the bars make easier prey. One of us will have to be bait; lure a demon away, attack it and hope we draw the other one’s attention then get it to the warehouse.”

            “Who’s going to be the bait?”

            “You.”

            “Me?! Why me?”

            “Because Neil and I know the area. Once the demon goes after you, we can shoot it to get its attention. It’ll come after us, and we can lure it to the warehouse. When the one that might be your brother hears the gunshots, he’ll be sure to give chase too. Plus, if it really is possessing your brother, it’d be more likely to get involved. It’d want to confront you; its meat would get you off guard.”

            “I guess you’re right…” He wasn’t exactly looking forward to being demon bait, but he didn’t have a better plan.

            He followed Robyn’s directions to a short parking garage a block or so away from the bar. As they started walking to Attacher, Robyn recounted the plan to him.

            “Okay, you’ll go in the bar, have a drink or two; not enough to actually get drunk, but enough to believably get some light weight drunk. You’ll stumble out, hoping you get noticed by the demons. Once one gives chase, run. Me and Neil will shoot the bastard full of salt so it chases us. We lead it to the warehouse, you follow. We’ll hope the other one chases too. Once in the warehouse, we’ll get it into a hidden trap and hope the other follows in to kill it. Got it?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Good.” They stopped in front of the bar and she motioned across the street. “Neil’s over in that alley already. I’ll be down the street.” She put her hands on his shoulders reassuringly. “And don’t worry, Sam. We know what we’re doing, you’re completely safe.”

            Sam gulped and nodded. Robyn headed off down the street and Sam gulped again before heading into the bar.

            He managed to find an empty table to sit at. It wasn’t as busy as most bars would be that time of the night. But most people on Bourbon Street were tourists and they were all at the more touristy bars.

            He got a beer and made fast work of drinking it before ordering a second. This one he drank slower. He looked around the bar as he drank hoping to see someone who looked like Dean. No luck. The disappointment only served to heighten his thirst and he downed the rest of the beer, followed by a third. Luckily for him he was big enough that three beers wouldn’t stunt his abilities.

            He pulled some bills from his wallet and left them on the table to pay for the beers then stood and shoved the chair back under the table; hard. It made contact with a loud thud and everyone in the bar looked at him. It may have been a bar, but it wasn’t known for having a lot of occurrences like this. He left quietly, but staggering, exaggerating just enough to draw attention.

            He got out the door and kept staggering down the street in towards where Robyn would be. He couldn’t have made it more than 50 feet before there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and there was a slightly stout man behind him, a look of friendly concern on his face. “You okay buddy?”

            Sam continued pretending to be drunk. “Y..yeah, jusht on mah way houumm…”

            “Why don’t I give you a hand? Don’t want you getting hurt.” He grabbed one of Sam’s arms and threw it over his shoulders so he could prop him up and help him walk.

            “ _Shit,”_ Sam thought to himself. _“How are we gonna get the demon with this guy hanging around?”_ He couldn’t drop the act though, it’d be hard to explain that he was just playing drunk in an attempt to track down a few demons.

            After they’d gotten beyond the heavier crowds, the man turned Sam down an alley. He pulled Sam’s arm off him and stopped. “I know you aren’t drunk…” Sam looked at the man, surprised.

            “How did you-“

            The man cut him off. “I overheard you planning outside the bar.” He smiled.

            “There’s no way you heard… unless…”

            The man’s eyes filled with black and his smile grew wider. “I’m a demon?” He laughed. “You know, I was just planning on having some fun in this town, but I never managed I’d bag myself a Winchester.” He lunged at Sam who ducked out of the way just in time. The demon hit the ground giving Sam enough time to run from the alley and into the street. Robyn and Neil were already standing at the opening of the alley, having suspected Sam’s assistant of being a demon.

            The demon ran out of the alley after Sam only to be greeted by a chest full of rock salt fired into him by Robyn. The demon let out a roar and leapt at her only to be shot out of the air by Neil. It took a minute for the demon to get up, but once it did, Robyn and Neil ran off and it followed.

            Sam followed behind them all as they ran through back alleys and deserted streets towards the docks. Unbeknownst to them all, there was another figure following them unseen on the rooftops.

            It wasn’t long before the multitude of buildings along the docks came into view. Sam wasn’t keeping up so well with Robyn, Neil, and the demon, but he managed to stay close enough to see the three of them crash through the doors of one of the warehouses. He stayed just outside the door for a moment, listening in. He heard a few gunshots before rushing in to help.

            The warehouse was one large room, shipping crates scattered and stacked up haphazardly and some kind of grey vinyl covering over most of the floor. It had to be there to hide the devils traps, thought it wasn’t out of place in the location so most demons would never notice.

            He ran in just in time to see Neil shoot the demon again. Robyn climbed a ladder to the catwalk around the perimeter of the warehouse while Neil had it distracted. She got to the top and aimed the sniper rifle at it, ready to pump its skull full of salt if Neil was in danger.

            There was a sudden crash of glass on the floor followed by a figure. It moved so fast it was hard to make out any distinguish features beyond that it was shaped like a person.

            It ran at the demon, catching it in an instant then grabbed it by the shirt collar and threw it over his head into the middle of the room. It hit the floor hard enough to break half the bones in any human’s body but it just rolled and got back onto its feet like nothing happened.

            It snarled at the second demon who just gave it a crooked smile before leaping at it, landing it on its back with him on top. He rammed a hand straight into his prey’s chest, pulling out its still beating heart. It held it up for a moment, as if to admire it while the other screamed. It crushed the heart, silencing the demon instantly. He dropped the sticky mess to the floor and stood, proud of himself.

            The three hunters looked on in stunned silence as the demon headed to the exit of the building. It only got a few feet before it stopped and stumbled backwards a few feet as if it’d walked into a wall. “The hell?” it snarled. It punched into the air, its fist making contact with the invisible barrier. It was trapped.

            Robyn climbed down from the catwalk, meeting Neil at the bottom of the latter. Sam met up with them a second later. They approached the trap, Robyn yelling out from a distance, “Don’t bother! There’s a devil’s trap under the floor!”

            The demon bent down and ripped up a piece of the vinyl floor covering as if it was a piece of paper revealing the symbols underneath. She was right. He yelled back, “When I get out of here, I’m gonna rip your hearts out just like I did to this bastard!”

            “ _If_ you get out of here, you mean!” Neil yelled back. The demon pounded on the invisible wall again.

            Once they got close enough to get a good look at their captive, Sam stopped dead in his tracks. The demon stopped punching and stared at Sam, the black flood leaving its eyes. “Sammy?”

            It was Dean. Or it was his body anyway. 


	6. Chapter 6

Sam was dead silent. Part of him was in shock that he was seeing his brother again, another part was enraged that a demon was using his body. It took him a minute to regain himself.

            “…get out of him.” His voice was soft and deep, that of a man about to snap. It’d have been bad enough seeing a demon use his brother while he was alive, but now? Now that he was dead and gone and a demon was parading his corpse in front of him? It was like he was the one in hell.

            The demon looked at him his face almost looking hurt. “Sammy, it’s me…”

            “No it’s not. Dean’s dead… “

            “I was dead! But I crawled my way outta hell!”

            “When Lilith and her hellhounds drag someone to hell, they don’t just ‘crawl out’.” Sam was so enraged he was twitching. He had to stop and calm himself down before he used the knife on the demon. Normally he wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but if he killed the demon with the knife, Dean’s body would be dead again, and then he’d never be able to get him back.

            “Sam, I swear!”

            Sam turned away and pulled out his phone to make a call. “Bobby…” he gulped. “We’ve got the demon trapped… and… it’s using Dean’s body. I need your help. I want it out of him, and I want it to suffer…” He gave Bobby directions to the warehouse before hanging up.

            He turned to Robyn and Neil. “Look, it’s going to take a while for Bobby to get here. I can stay here and keep watch if you guys wanna go home.”

            Robyn shook her head. “We’re not going to make you sit here alone with him.”

            “It’s okay, really. He’s not going anywhere and there’s no point in three people watching one harmless demon. Besides… he and I need to have a talk…”

            Neil offered, “We’ve got a few jugs of holy water and some bags of salt in the Jeep if you want; you know, for just in case you get impatient.”

            “That’d be great, thanks.”

            Neil left with Robyn and they came back a few minutes later, jug of holy water and salt bag in hand. They put them both by Sam’s feet and Robyn placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. “If you need anything, give us a call, okay?”

            “Yeah, we’ll do whatever we can to help,” Neil added.

            “I will, thanks.”

            They both shook Sam’s hand before heading out.

            Sam turned back to the demon. “I don’t even understand why you’d use my brother’s body. Is it because you want me to be in pain? Because that already happened when he died. I’m all burnt out now.”

            The demon sighed. “Sam, it’s me. It really is.”

            “Oh, so Dean just became a demon then? Then he possessed his own body, which should be rotting by the way, so he could hunt down other demons? You really think I’m buying that?”

            “I can’t explain the non-rotting for sure… there was a rumor in hell though that I had an ‘incorruptible corpse’… something related to how we were kinda doing God’s work by killing demons…”

            “Yeah, I’m sure,” Sam shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

            “Sam, believe me! Do you really think they can pull a hunter into hell without them continuing to hunt? I tortured and killed thousands of those sons of bitches and crawled my way out!”

            “You’re not a hunter though! You’re not Dean!” He ripped open the salt bag and pulled out a fistful, throwing it into the demons face. It let out a roar and tried to claw the salt off which only served to burn its hands too. Sam poured some of the holy water into a plastic cup Robyn and Neil had left with it. He hesitated for a second. He was bothered seeing his brother in pain, but then he remember that it wasn’t his brother in there. He threw the water into the demon’s face, eliciting another roar.

            The holy water washed the salt away but he was still in pain until it dripped off of him. When the screaming subsided, he stood there, out of breath and staring at Sam.

            “You really expect me to just buy that my brother became a demon and is possessing his own body?”

            “I know it’s a little out there Sammy, but we aren’t exactly normal.”

            “If it’s you, and you really managed to get out, then there’s something I want to know…” He glared at the demon.

            “Anything.”

            “Why didn’t you come find me?” His voice was morose. It hurt him just to ask. The prospect that Dean could be out, running around, and not have come back to him was a knife in the chest, even as a hypothetical situation.

            It sighed. “I couldn’t. It wasn’t safe…”

            “Dean wouldn’t care! He would have found me!” He threw more holy water into the demon’s face.

            It screamed for a moment before gritting its teeth and talking through the pain. “Maybe if I was feeding you my blood you’d listen to me!” Being calm hadn’t gotten him anywhere; he’d have to step up his game.

            Sam was dumbstruck. “W-what did you say?” Ruby was the only one who knew about the blood drinking. How could he have known?

            “I said maybe if I was feeding you my blood you’d listen… You follow Ruby around and do whatever the hell she says and you hardly know her, but you won’t listen to your own brother! Is it because she’s feeding your little junkie habit?” The way his features contorted when he was angry and the tone of his voice made him seem more like the real Dean than he had before. But for all Sam knew his subconscious could have been tricking him; he wanted it to be Dean so bad that he was seeing similarities where there were none.

            “You don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s not a ‘junkie habit’, it’s how I stay strong enough to put down bastards like you,” he said with a sneer. He knew deep down that the demon was right though. There’d be times when the hunger got so bad he’d be screaming at Ruby on the phone to come to him and let him feed. It all suited Ruby just fine though.

            “You were disgusted before at the thought of having demon blood in you, now you can’t get enough of it! Sounds like a junkie to me.”

            “Shut up!” He tossed yet another cup of holy water at it. While it was screaming, he pulled out his phone and texted Rubythe address of the warehouse followed by _‘Found demon. Need your help to kill it.’_

            Not only would seeing Ruby there piss of his captive, she could coach him through torturing and not just expelling the thing, but killing it. He knew killing them was possible, Ruby had told him so, but he wasn’t strong enough to do it and hadn’t even tried it yet. But he wanted this thing to suffer.

            “She’s got you wrapped around her finger, you know.” The repeated abuse by Sam was starting to piss him off. It was enough to make any person angry, but being a demon only made his emotional response stronger. What might make one person want to punch someone might incite a demon into a homicidal rage. Newer demons like this one were even more prone. All their emotions were heightened.

            Sam phone buzzed; a text from Ruby. _‘On my way. –R’_

            “Well when she gets here, her finger and I are going to show you why it’s not a good idea to desecrate my brother’s corpse.”

            “God dammit Sam! I’m not desecrating a corpse! It’s me! What’s it gonna take for me to get it through your fucking head?!”

            There was a loud creak from one of the warehouse’s doors followed by footsteps. Sam was worried, hoping it wasn’t someone investigating the screams. The source of the footsteps came into view soon enough. It was Bobby.

            “Jesus… it really does have his body…” Bobby had seen a lot of shit in his time, but this was among the worst. Demonic possessions were pretty textbook, but it was Dean, it was painful to see someone he’d known for so long like this. He couldn’t even imagine what it was doing to Sam.

            “Thanks for coming, Bobby.”

            “Not a problem…” he paused. “Listen, are you sure you want to go through with this? Torturing the thing, I mean.”

            “Of course, why wouldn’t I?!”

            “It’s just, you can’t go soft because it looks like Dean. You can start feeling sympathy for the thing.”

            “Don’t worry about it.”

            “Alright then.” He dropped the duffel bag he’d carried in with him and it hit the floor with a thud. He unzipped it, pulling out some of the various torture implements he’d acquired over the years. Iron chains, rosaries for making more holy water, salt, iron knives, pieces of rebar, among other things.

            Bobby picked up a big piece of the chain, nodding at Sam to get him to help lift it. He started swinging it, Sam helping. “Count of three.” Sam nodded. “One…. Two…. Three!” They threw the chain at the demon in unison and it struck it in the chest, knocking it over. It struggled to move and was stuck. The iron kept it too weak to lift the chains off; now it was fully at Sam’s mercy.

            He picked up one of the iron knives and approached the demon, walking into the devil’s trap. He called back to Bobby, “Can you bring me the salt and holy water?” As Bobby brought them to him, he kneeled at the demon’s side.

            Bobby backed away after bringing what Sam asked for. He knew he was there more for moral support and to keep Sam from getting himself hurt than to actually help him. He also knew that he’d better keep back because when a Winchester gets mad, they get mad.

            Sam dipped the blade into the holy water before sprinkling salt onto it. He looked the demon dead in the eye. “You never should have possessed him…” He plunged the knife into its side as the demon howled. He pulled his hand away, leaving the knife behind.

            The demon yelled, his words punctuated with screams. “It’s me!” His fists were clenched so hard that blood was dripping from them and pooling on the floor. “You’ve gotta believe me!” His next scream was cut short when Sam poured salt into its open mouth.

            Its muffled screams were still ear splitting. “Oh, is that salt too drying? Maybe you need something to wash it down with?” Sam didn’t even bother with the plastic cup now. He held the jug of holy water over its head, upending it and letting the water flow into its mouth until more than half of it was gone. The demon swallowed a lot of it; it didn’t have much choice.

            Its eyes filled with black as it glared at Sam. “That’s… that’s how you want to be Sam? I come back and you do this to me?!” The pain was making it even harder for it to control its emotions.

            Sam reached down and twisted the knife in the demon’s side, pulling out another scream. The sight of Sam’s methods was enough to even make Bobby flinch.

            “I did it for you Sam! I crawled out of hell for you and you do this to me?”

            “If it was for me, why didn’t you come? And don’t give that shit about it not being safe!”

            “I wasn’t going to put you through seeing me like this! I wanted to find a way to become human again! I wanted things to be how they were! Would you have any peace knowing I’m a demon? You think other hunters would give us peace?!”

            “Bullshit! Dean would have found me! We would have found a way together no matter what!”

Sam plunged another knife into one of its shoulders, another into its stomach. The only words it could get out now were “It’s me! It’s me!”

“Shut up!” He dumped the rest of the jug of holy water out over its body, following it with the bag of salt; leaving it writhing under a coat of anti-demon napalm. It screamed and clawed at the floor, wearing its fingers raw.

            Ruby burst through the doors of the warehouse a moment later. “Sounds like someone’s having fun!”

Sam approached her. “I need the blood.”

            “You only need the blood to exorcise it,” she said matter-of-factly. She liked having Sam addicted to her blood, but she couldn’t have him so strung out that he couldn’t function without it. She had better things to do than being his private drinking fountain. “You called me to help you torture it, not to expel it.”

            “Well give me some ideas then.” He added, “And don’t get too close to him, there’s a devil’s trap under the floor.”

            She walked over to the pile of torture implements that Bobby had brought and gave them a once over, being careful not to touch any of them. “Well…. You could dip these knives in holy water or salt before you stab him with them. Someone pulled that on me back in the 1800s; hurt like a motherfucker.”

            Sam liked the idea. He prepared a couple of the knives and went back into the trap, getting onto his knees at the demon’s side. Ruby stood in place, watching the torture play out. She was pretty impressed by Sam now; before he’d hesitate when they’d interrogate captive demons, but now… now he was ruthless. She hoped that maybe he’d be able to carry some of that ruthlessness with him. It’d make her job a hell of a lot easier.

            Sam set down the knives and started trying to push the chain off of the demon. It was heavy, heavy enough to crush a normal person under its weight and he had to put all his into pushing to get it to budge. He managed to get it off and the demon didn’t try to move away; it couldn’t. All it did was writhe on the floor trying to rub off the salt and holy water but to no avail.

            Sam picked up one of the knives and placed his free hand on the demon’s chest, holding it in place and giving him access to its stomach where he plunged the knife. The demon’s roars grew even louder, a mix of physical pain and betrayal.

            It curled into a ball, unable to gain enough control to pull this knife or the other two out. Sam smiled a little twisted smile and picked up the next knife, holding it high. He started to swing it down, aimed at the demons arm when there was an interruption; staying his blade.

            “Sam, stop!” It was Ruby. In a soft, dumbstruck voice she said, “Oh my god…”

            Sam looked back to her. “What?!” He sounded annoyed.

            “Pull the knives out!”

            “Why the hell would I do that?!”

            “It’s Dean!”


	7. Chapter 7

“No it’s not! It’s a demon possessing his body!”

            “No, Sam! You don’t understand!” She ran around the invisible perimeter of the trap until she was near Sam and the demon. “I can see it’s face now Sam… its _true_ face.”

            Sam looked at her, his eyes growing wide. As the realization started to hit him he dropped the knife. “No…”

            “Sam… It’s Dean. The real Dean…” She was as shocked as Sam. She didn’t expect Dean could have pulled this off. She’d figured some demon wanted to fuck with Sam. Hell, what demon wouldn’t have wanted to fuck with a Winchester?

            “Dean?” Sam looked down at him. “You weren’t lying…”

            He was barely conscious at this point, the pain and his own screams tiring him.

            Bobby finally broke his silence. “How do we know she’s telling the truth?”

            Ruby glared at him for questioning her. “Because I want to kill demons too. Why would I save a demon that we could off so easy? I may be a demon but you know I’m on their side.”

            Bobby sighed. He knew she was right.

            Sam frantically pulled the knives out of Dean, tossing them to the floor with a clank. He tried wiping off the holy water and salt mixture but he wasn’t making much progress. “Bobby! We need to get this off him!”

          “Well how do you propose we do that? All we’ve got is holy water and the water in the bay is all salt water!”

            “We’ll take him to my motel! Help me carry him to your car!”

            Bobby picked up Dean’s legs and Sam wrapped his arms around his torso and lifted. Bobby was silent. He was happy to have Dean back, and he was happy for Sam, but Dean was still a demon.

            They carried him out to Bobby’s car and slid him gingerly into the back seat, Ruby following close behind. Bobby and Sam climbed into the front seats and Ruby climbed into the back with Dean who was still moaning, barely clinging to consciousness.

            Sam drove, being the only one to know the way to his motel. It didn’t take long due to his speeding; desperate to clean Dean up and get him alert again.

            He jumped out of the car once at the motel, opening the door then coming back out to make sure there were no onlookers. There weren’t. He and Bobby brought Dean into the motel room. “Help me get him into the shower so I can clean him off.”

            Once they had Dean in the shower, Bobby got ready to leave. “I’ll… I’ll leave you to get things straight with him. You need anything you know where to find me.”

            “Thanks, Bobby.”

            “Anytime.” He got the car and turned back to Ruby, still sitting in the back. “You gonna go in there and help?”

            She shook her head. “No, he needs some time alone with his brother.” She wanted to get back to hunting with Sam, but he always had trouble concentrating enough to use his powers well. She figured that maybe some time with Dean now that he was back would make it easier for him. He wouldn’t be so angry with himself when he used them. He wouldn’t be wondering to himself whether or not he could have saved Dean with those very powers had he just practiced more; had he listened to Ruby.

            “So what’re you gonna do?”

            “Mind giving me a ride? I’ll catch a bus from somewhere along the way back to your place.”

            “Not a problem.” Bobby started the car and pulled out of the lot to head home.

            Sam sat on the floor of the shower, cradling Dean in his arms. He reached up and turned the shower on full blast and started scrubbing off the salt. His shirt had soaked up a lot of it along with quite a bit of blood. He tugged Dean’s shirt up and over his head and tossed it to the side.

            The water ran over Dean’s body, following every contour, trails of red flowing out of his still open wounds. Sam gently rubbed away the salt that wasn’t immediately washed away, making sure he didn’t get any into the knife wounds.

            He reached his free hand up and ran it through Dean’s hair, raking out the salt that had turned his hair into a homogenous crusty mass. It took a bit of work but he felt Dean’s hair start to soften.

            He ran his fingers through Dean’s hair several more times until it finally returned to its normal softness. He slid his hand down his body, stopping to rub a few spots that hadn’t been washed clean of salt on his way down to his waistband. He hesitated for a second, imagining how Dean would react to this. Probably something like, _‘Dude! Unless you’re a hot girl you aren’t getting me naked!’_ He chuckled a little then started slipping off his pants. It was either deal with Dean’s potential anger or never get all the salt off.

            The salt flaked off the jeans in clumps, dissolving on the floor of the shower. A quick rinse was all that was left to cleanse Dean of the holy napalm. Sam reached up and shut off the water, waiting a minute so Dean could drip dry.

            He dragged Dean gently out of the shower and dried him with a big grey towel left by the housekeeping staff. He then wrapped it around him and carried him out of the bathroom and laid him on the bed.

            Sam then dug around in his bags, pulling out a pair of light grey sweatpants of his. Dean’s old clothes were all in boxes; stored in Bobby’s basement. Sam had kept them partially so Dean would have something to wear when… if he brought him back. But more than that he’d kept them to have part of Dean that he could visit. Every so often he’d stop by Bobby’s, go down to the basement, and sift through the boxes of clothes. They weren’t just Dean’s old clothes anymore so much as Sam’s private archive of his brother. The leather jacket, Dean’s trademark had gone into the ground with him. He may have kept an archive but he wasn’t going to deny Dean his favorite outfit.

            He had, however, kept one little token. Before they’d put Dean into his pine box, Sam slipped off the necklace he’d given him all those Christmas’s ago. He always wore it, just like Dean had; a little piece of his brother to carry with him.

            Sam slid the sweatpants onto Dean, tying a neat bow with the drawstrings. He tossed the towel aside. He inspected the knife wounds he’d left on his brother closely. He wasn’t sure whether to bandage them or not. Normally he played doctor to them both; sewing holes shut, extracting bullets on occasion, and always using whiskey as anesthetic. But he assumed they’d heal themselves faster than normal and without intervention now that Dean was…

            He still couldn’t bring himself to even think the word now. He sighed. Not thinking of the word ‘demon’ wouldn’t change the situation. Dean was a demon, and there wasn’t anything that would change that. He’d just have to accept it. After all, having Dean around was infinitely better than the alternative.

            Sam sat down on the other bed, watching over Dean, holding vigil just like he had when Dean was dead. It still hadn’t sunken in that it was really him. He felt exactly as he had back then; feeling lost, alone, and like a weight was on his chest. Despite his brother sitting in front him, he was still doubtful. He’d had dreams a little like this so many times; Dean came back somehow, only for Sam to snap awake right as they embraced.

            He didn’t move from the bed for hours, afraid that if he slept he’d wake up to find it had been yet another dream.

            Finally, Dean let out a soft groan, instantly snapping Sam to attention. “Dean?”

            There was another groan, louder now as he lifted a hand up to rub his forehead. “Sam?” His voice was low and scratchy. He rubbed his eyes and turned his head to look at his brother.

            “H…how are you feeling?”

            Dean slowly propped himself up on one arm, pushing until he was sitting up and facing Sam. “Like I got hit by a truck… or like I was tortured for hours.”

            Sam looked down at the floor, guilty. “I didn’t know. I thought you were possessed.”

            “Well… I kind of am, just by myself.”

            “So… it’s really you?”

            “That’s what I was trying to tell you all along,” he said, sounding a little frustrated. “I know it’s not the most believable story, but I thought you’d be able to tell it was me…”

            “I thought it was just some other demon fucking with me. I really did.” He voice was dripping with the guilt and shame he felt.

            “I know, Sammy. I know.”

            Sam reached down his shirt and pulled out a pendant hanging from his neck. The dim lights in the room glinted off its surface. It was the one he’d given Dean.

            He’d worn the thing for months, never taking it off until now. He reached out, handing it to Dean. “I, uh, I should give this back to you.”

           “You’re the one who had it?” Of course Dean had noticed from day one that his beloved necklace was gone.

            “I... took it before we buried you…Sorry. I just wanted something of yours to keep with me.”

            “It’s okay Sam.” He couldn’t blame him. Hell, he would have done the same thing if Sam had died. He grabbed the necklace and slipped it around his neck, back to its rightful place.

            “Remember when I gave that to you?” He smiled a little, the memory still vivid for him.

            Dean smiled a little too. “Yeah; dad was out on a hunt and you were so worried that he wouldn’t be back in time for Christmas. I went out alone and broke into some yuppies’ house a few streets away from the motel to get presents for you. You were asleep when I got back so I woke you up and said dad had been back and you missed him but he left presents for you.”

            “And what really gave away the lie,” Sam cut in, “was that they were-“

            Dean chimed in and they finished in unison, “-a sparkly baton and a Barbie!” They both started laughing, Dean holding his hand up in surrender. “Stop stop! You’re gonna reopen the knife holes!” It still took him a second to stop laughing; he couldn’t get Sam’s dejected look from that Christmas out of his head. Once he’d calmed down he added, “Then you gave me this.” He pointed to the amulet.

            Sam’s smile grew. That proved it. It really was his brother in there. “It really is you…”

            “Huh?”

            “No one else would know that.” His voice cracked. “It really is you.”

            “Told you so.”

            Sam stood up and leaned forward, grabbing Dean in a bear hug and lifting him to his feet. Dean hugged Sam back as he buried his face into Dean’s shoulder, crying. “I didn’t think I’d get you back…”

            Dean patted him on the back. “Well now you do.”


	8. Chapter 8

Sam woke up early the next morning to properly wash Dean’s clothes from the night before in the motel’s laundry room. He made sure to get a couple extra dollars’ worth of quarters from the change machine so Dean could use the magic fingers on the beds back in the room.

            Dean was still sound asleep when he got back; unsurprising given what he’d been through. Sam folded up his clothes and set them next to Dean then went and sat with his laptop at the table by the front windows. He hadn’t forgotten about the job he and Ruby had been on when he got the call from Bobby about Dean; there were an usually high number of demonic possessions happening in South Carolina. He and Ruby hadn’t found much out while there, and he didn’t really expect to find anything on the internet to help, but he needed something to do while he waited for Dean to rouse from his slumber.

            By the time noon hit, Dean still hadn’t woken up. Sam sighed and walked over to the side of Dean’s bed then dug in his pocket for a quarter and slipped it into the slot in the magic fingers box.

            The bed sprang to life, buzzing. It only took a moment for Dean to wake up. He didn’t realize what was going on right away but when he did a big smile crept across his face. “Ooh yeah, that’s nice,” his words were low and drawn out.

            Sam couldn’t help but pull a face. Dean always seemed to enjoy the magic fingers a little too much. But at least it’d gotten him to finally wake up.

            He tossed the clothes onto the bed with Dean. “Here, I got your clothes washed so you can wear ‘em without burning.”

            “Thanks, I’ll put them on….. later.” The ghost of their mother could have walked into that motel room and Dean still wouldn’t have budged.

            Sam rolled his eyes and went back to his research from earlier. Not that there had been much online to help. He’d found some omens and a few reports of missing people; probably possession victims that Ruby had ‘taken care’ of, but nothing to explain the mass possessions. He sighed. There had to be something to explain it.

            The buzzing from the other side of the room stopped and Dean sighed loudly. “I wonder if they make these things for car seats…” He sat up begrudgingly and started changing into his own clothes. He called over to Sam, “Hey, whatcha researching?”

            “Mass demonic possessions in South Carolina; it’s the case me and Ruby were working on before you, uh, rose from the dead.”

            “It’s a trap to lure in hunters so they can off them,” he said matter-of-factly.

            “What?”

            “So many possessions in one area are going to attract a lot of attention from hunters. They go in to investigate; the demons outnumber them and kill them. More hunters come, same thing. They figure they’ll have an easier time if there aren’t any hunters left to come after them.”

            “What makes you so sure?”

            Dean looked at him from across the room and he could see his eyes turn black. “Because I’m a demon.  I can… let’s say ‘overhear’ what they’re doing.” His eyes went back to normal.

            “It makes sense…” He sighed. “But how are we going to exorcise that many demons? I mean, even if we had some kind of loudspeaker there’d be no way to get it loud enough for everyone in town to hear it, and even if we could somehow do that, the non-possessed people are going to know something’s up.”

            Dean walked over and took a seat across the table from Sam. “All we’ve got to do is herd them into one big devil’s trap.” He smiled. “Then you just have to work that juju of yours on ‘em.”

            “You… want me to use the powers?” Sam looked at him skeptically; during their little torture incident, Dean had seemed pretty against Sam drinking demon blood and using his powers.

            “They’re our best chance.”

            “But earlier you said you didn’t want me on the blood, that it was a junkie habit.”

            Dean sighed. “That’s partially because I was pissed. Demons… our emotions get more intense. We can control them usually, but sometimes they’re just too strong. So instead of just being mad, I was… _really_ mad. Homicidally so.” He paused a moment. “At that point I’d say anything to piss you off enough to leave me the hell alone. Not that it did me much good.”

            “So then… when people saw you ripping apart demons with your bare hands…”

            “Yep. You know how we get kind of intense when we’re hunting? We get so focused on killing whatever we’re after that everything else seems unimportant. Being a demon strengthens that; once I’m set on getting rid of something, it’s like it’s all that matters.”

            “But you’re killing an innocent person in the process…” Sam wanted to yell at Dean, normally he would have, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to do anything that might anger him. And it wasn’t like he could really blame him, it wasn’t Dean’s fault he was a demon.

            “It’s not like I can completely control it, Sam. Besides, it’s not like I can really use the normal stuff anymore.” A forlorn look crossed his face for a second. “Plus if you exorcise them, they’ll be fine.”

            “But I’ve never done that many at once before. Hell if I try two I start bleeding and feeling like I’m about to have an aneurysm.”

            “It’s because you didn’t have enough blood in your system.”

            “What?”

            “It’s not all practice. Imagine that you’re a car. When it starts running out of gas, it doesn’t work very well, especially right at the end when it starts chugging and sputtering. That’s you. Fill the tank with gas, it runs perfect. We just gotta fill your tank; and if it runs low while you’re exorcising those sons of bitches, we refill it.”

            “Ruby’s gonna be holding them off while I exorcise the others, how is she gonna give me the blood?”

            “Who said anything about Ruby?”

            “You don’t mean…”

            “We use my blood. I’d rather you get it from me than her anyway.”

            “You’re really okay with this? You’re not concerned about me being addicted like before?”

            “If you’re addicted with me around, it’s not so bad. I’m always here and I can wean you off if need be. Ruby’s always off doing who the hell knows what.” There was a hint of jealousy in his voice. He didn’t exactly like that someone else was off hunting with his brother. “You can’t be that opposed to it anyway, you certainly weren’t when it was just you two.”

            “You weren’t there to stop me.”

            Dean’s eyes flashed black. “I was trying to protect you,” he growled.

            “I know! I just- I just don’t think as straight without you around. Having her around was better than being completely alone.”

            Dean’s eyes went back to normal. “Sorry… I uh, that whole more intense emotions thing.”

            “It’s alright, Dean.” He tried to turn the conversation back to the plan. “Won’t constantly drinking from you drain you dry though?”

            “No. I mean it shouldn’t. Newer demons have more potent blood… especially compared to your 600 year old former witch friend. You’ll only need a little from me.”

            Sam couldn’t deny that he wanted the blood, and something about it being from Dean made it even more appealing. But there was a part of him that was disgusted with himself for even thinking about it. Dean probably could wean him off the blood if the need arose. If anyone was capable of it, it was Dean.

            “It lasts longer too.” He paused. “Why don’t you give it a little try? You’ll see how it affects you and then you won’t sit worrying about it when we’re actually going after the things.”

            “I don’t know…” He didn’t want to risk becoming more addicted than he was, or risk Dean finding out just how bad it was. Frantic calls in the middle of the night to Ruby, begging her to come give him a little blood, just so he could sleep through the night. What good would feeding off Dean do him? Sure he’d get off Ruby’s blood, but it’d be the same story as before, just different characters.

            “We’ve got no chance of saving anyone if you don’t. It’s we get your powers up to full strength, or I start ripping the demons apart. You hate when people end up dead, so why let it happen now?”

            “I don’t want to risk the addiction though. You might be able to help, but what if you can’t?”

            “I can. Have a little faith. I just give you less and less and soon enough you’re good as new.”

            “Do you know how much blood I take from Ruby now?”

            “Yeah, I do actually. Remember, I can eavesdrop.” He smiled smugly. “You call her all the time begging her for a hit because you can’t sleep or you’re in pain or even sometimes when you just get thirsty…”

            Sam’s features dropped. He didn’t want Dean to know how bad it really was. Despite how close they’d always been he still felt nothing but shame.

            “Look at me, Sam.”

            He looked up at him for a second before his gaze fell again. It took him a few seconds to muster up the courage to actually maintain any kind of eye contact.

            “If we hunt down those demons, I swear I can wean you off it. All I’ve got to do is gradually give you less and keep you distracted when the cravings strike. Trust me. I’ve been to hell, and now I’m a demon. If either of us knows how this shit works, it’s me.”

            “Can’t we at least, you know, try it the old fashioned way first?”

            “As in salt, holy water, salt rounds, and all that?”

            “Yeah.”

            “You know I can’t use all the old stuff, right? I’m a demon.”

            “You’re a good hunter; I know you can kick ass even without the weapons.”

            Dean sighed. He was a sucker for compliments, especially from Sam. “Fine. We’ll try it your way. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”


End file.
